


You Wouldn't Hurt a Poor Bard

by tossacointoyourwriter



Series: A Bard and his Hurting [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Misunderstandings, Spit As Lube, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22119064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tossacointoyourwriter/pseuds/tossacointoyourwriter
Summary: Jaskier stared up at Geralt, his hands balling up the sheets in his fists and his eyes as wide as saucers. He swallowed once more, this time releasing a shaky breath afterwards.Don't say it, he told himself. Don't be a fool."Maybe I want you to hurt me."Fuck.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: A Bard and his Hurting [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592920
Comments: 20
Kudos: 981





	You Wouldn't Hurt a Poor Bard

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse spelling mistakes, i wrote this at 2 am and I have no beta.

"And to which I said, 'I am not one for fighting but my friend here is!' Oh the look on his face when he saw my dear friend here, priceless!"

The gathering of men that crowded around Jaskier errupted with laughter, some clapping their hands and others throwing up their mugs, sloshing whatever cheap beer was inside around and onto others in the crowd. Jaskier's own face lit up with delight, and he twisted to the side to get a look at Geralt positioned beside him. His delighted smile dropped, meeting a very unpleasantly sour glare that belonged to his companion.

"Well, folks, I uhh... I guess it is time for my friend and I to part ways with the lot of you. Fighting beasts requires rest!"

Jaskier placed his hand on Geralt's shoulder to jump down from the tabletop, but much to his dismay, Geralt pulled from under his support and Jaskier came toppling down, barely missing the floorboards thanks to the strong arm that caught him mere inches from the dirty wood. Another erruption of laughter, this time at Jaskier's expense.

Geralt hauled Jaskier onto his feet, the bard giving him an indignant glare before he turned tail to face the dispersing crowd. "Yes, off with you sods," he shouted. "Off with you, laughing at a poor man's expense."

The bard huffed and turned back to Geralt, who was fighting to keep an amused grin from his face. "Well," Jaskier started, staring down the seated man. "I suppose I deserved that. Anywho, let's be off. The innkeep said our room is the third down the hall. Let's go, places to do and things to be," he clapped for added measure, which only made Geralt wrinkle his nose and turn back to his tankard.

"Fine, be like that," the bard huffed. "I am going to go get some rest, and you'd be smart to do the same."

It wasn't long before Geralt joined Jaskier in their room, his face unreadable as he surveyed the room they had been given. Two beds, one significantly larger than the other, and a certain bard spread over said larger bed with a smug grin.

"Do you not remember the rules, dear Witcher? First come first serve, and I've served myself to the larger bed. Take that, you sodding old bat!"

The remark only rewarded Jaskier with a shoulder pad to the face as Geralt began to remove his layers of armor. The bard let out a scandalized gasp and, in turn, reached to the side of the bed and grabbed for a shoe, which found itself being hurled at the Witcher with all the force that Jaskier had. It's a pity Geralt's reflexes were faster than Jaskier anticipated. He should have known, the cat-like bastard.

"Do you find it wise to throw things at the only person in the room with a weapon?" Jaskier frowned when Geralt grunted out the words, and crossed his arms over his chest pointedly.

"I know you won't hurt me," he quipped, an eyebrow raised toward his companion. Geralt stilled in removing his armor, looking up to meet the Bard's eyes with a hurtfully sharp glare.

"You think I won't, Bard? You've seen what I can do."

He slowly removed the last of his armor and prowled towards Jaskier with a dangerous expression, making Jaskier swallow with a click of his throat. No, he was not afraid. Not of Geralt, at least. He was sure his friend wouldn't hurt him.

"I could have killed you at any point in our travels. Slit your throat while you slept, turned a blade on you after I killed a monster. Gut you for talking back to my contractors," Geralt halted when he was bowed over the bed, hands politely crossed behind his back. "What's stopping me from hurting you now?"

Jaskier stared up at Geralt, his hands balling up the sheets in his fists and his eyes as wide as saucers. He swallowed once more, this time releasing a shaky breath afterwards.

Don't say it, he told himself. Don't be a fool.

"Maybe I want you to hurt me."

Fuck.

Geralt looked a bit out off, definitely not expecting the answer he received. It was but a few mere seconds before he moved into action. He lunged forward, knocking the bard back onto the bed and clutching one slender wrist above his head, the other hand coming up to wrap around Jaskier's throat.

"Is this what you wanted," he all but grunted, locking his legs on either side of the bard's so he could do nothing but squirm beneath him. "I could kill you, Jaskier, why are you so insistent on annoying me?"

That's when everything went South... literally.

Geralt felt an unmistakable hardness against his thigh and realised he had completely misread not only Jaskier's words but the entirety of the situation. He stilled for a moment, looking down at the bard with eyes just as wide as Jaskier's.

The moment seemed to drag on for hours, just the two of them staring at each other. Jaskier's expression of horror and Geralt's unreadable expression, though behind his eyes you would see him thinking- considering.

That's when Geralt shifted his thigh, pressing inward just a bit to make sure he had felt right. Jaskier let out a sound, one that not only confirmed Geralt's thoughts but also sent blood rushing to his cock. Another shift, this time not questioning but sure and meaningful. Jaskier let out another sound, a high-pitched whine that sounded better to Geralt than anything the bard had ever sung.

"Geralt... What are you-"

The bard was silenced by a roll of Geralt's hips, causing both of them to gasp in unison. The grip on the bard's wrist faltered and he wiggled his way free to lay a hand on Geralt's thigh, though the hand around his neck remained, loose as its grip was.

"Geralt," Jaskier gasped as the Witcher rolled his hips one, two, three more times. He started up a steady rhythm of rocking his hips against Jaskier's until he felt the boy shuddering, clutching at his thighs desperately.

"Jaskier..."

Geralt trailed the hand on Jaskier's throat up to his chin, and he tilted the bard's head up to look into his eyes. Fiery eyes met deep oceans, and Jaskier moans again, and again, until Geralt leaned down to swallow those noises, slotting his lips into Jaskier's in a sloppy but coordinated kiss. Of course everything about Geralt was put together and coordinated.

When the Witcher withdrew for air, the bard let out a pitiful whine, and Geralt just wouldn't have any of that. He withdrew further to yank Jaskier's jerkin off, the unmistakable sound of ripping fabric filling the almost silent room. When his midsection was free, Geralt leaned down to trail kisses down the bard's neck. He kissed and licked and nipped and sucked marks into wherever he felt, and dragged his nails down Jaskier's flanks to draw shuddering gasps out of the boy. When Geralt reached his goal, he dragged his tongue across a perked nipple and sucked it into his mouth, dragging his teeth to feel Jaskier draw in a shaking breath.

"Geralt... please," Jaskier whined, tugging on Geralt's undershirt with urgent fingers. The Witcher withdrew to pull it over his head, revealing his scarred skin to the man beneath him. The reaction was instant, the bard pressed his hands into Geralt's chest and groped obscenely, his mouth falling open into a silent plea. It was enough for Geralt to understand, and she shimmied down the bed to loop a finger into Jaskier's trousers and unders, pulling them both off in one fluid motion. Jaskier keened as the cold air assaulted him, but Geralt calmed him with a gentle nip to his lower lip.

"Jaskier... is this okay?"

"More than okay," Jaskier huffed, arching his back when Geralt wrapped his calloused hand around his cock. "In fact, if you stopped now I would be right pissed."

Geralt nodded in agreement, and moved his unoccupied hand up to Jaskier's mouth, prodding his lips. The bard opened up, sucking his middle and index finger into his mouth to coat them with enough saliva to fill one of Geralt's potion vials. "Please, Geralt-" Jaskier started, but Geralt silenced him with a kiss once more and withdrew his wet fingers.

"I know, Jaskier. Relax."

He moved his hand down further until his wet fingers prodded at Jaskier's hole, causing the bard to let out a whine so obscene that Geralt couldn't help his own responding grunt. He pushed the fingertips into the bard, feeling into him as he continued to abuse the poor boy's nipples with teeth and tongue. All the while, Jaskier was a panting, writhing mess beneath Geralt, canting his hips into Geralt's fist and pushing back on his fingers, which were numbered three now as the Witcher had added a third at some point in the last few minutes.

"Geralt please, fuck me. I'm ready." Jaskier pointedly thrust back on Geralt's fingers, more than proving his point. Geralt grunted, his other hand flying to his trousers to free his cock, not having time to completely remove them. Once free, he stroked himself a few times, spreading the gathered precum until he deemed himself slick enough to line up with the bard's entrance. Slowly, almost too slow, he slid into Jaskier inch by inch until he was fully sheathed within the boy, who was panting and grasping Geralt's arms like his life depended on it.

Jaskier eventually squeezed his arm, and Geralt began thrusting into his tight heat with careful, slow movements. It was fine, for a short while, but both of them quickly grew frustrated. Jaskier grabbed Geralt by his hips and pulled him in deeper, causing the Witcher to let out a guttural moan and cant his hips forward. Point taken. He sped up his thrusts, snapping his hips back and forth as the raunchy sound of skin slapping on skin and breathy moans filled the small room.

Geralt set a brutal pace, pounding into the bard with abandon as the smaller man took it graciously, thrusting his hips back to meet Geralt halfway every time he pushed forward. The sickly hot feeling was building in Jaskier's belly, and he became a babbling, cross-eyes mess below the Witcher.

"Geralt please... darling... I'm so close. Please."

He didn't know what he was begging for, but Geralt seemed to understand and once again wrapped a thick hand around Jaskier's cock, stroking him until he came with a cry of Geralt's name. He shuddered, tightening around Geralt which eventually sent the larger man over the edge, Jaskier squeezing every last bit of his seed out of him until they both seemed to collapse, Geralt careful as to not crush the bard with his weight.

They lay there for a while, panting and letting their sweat cool, before one of them spoke.

"You're right, I wouldn't," Geralt spoke first, reaching a hand out to play with Jaskier's sweat dampened hair.

"Wouldn't what?" Jaskier asked curiously, leaning into the touch so he was curled at the Witcher's side, a hand on his chest and a leg tucked over his companion's.

"Hurt you," Geralt explained, tucking his face into the crook of Jaskier's neck. He breathed in the scent of him, like expensive oils and fine wine. "I wouldn't hurt you. Not on purpose. Ever."

The soft sounds of snoring beside him made Geralt aware of Jaskier's sleeping state, and he allowed his lips to quirk up into a grin, pulling Jaskier in closer to him.

"Goodnight, rest well my bard."

And when the men in the tavern laughed at Jaskier's bruised skin and bite marks the next morning, Geralt showed them not to poke fun at a Witcher's lover.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, my first work in this fandom. There is a disgusting lack of content for this ship and I have taken it into my hands to solve this. Kudos are appreciated and comments are encouraged!


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